


Lance Knows He Matters... Right?

by Cee_Blue



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I do too, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, Mentioned Coran, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Red loves this boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cee_Blue/pseuds/Cee_Blue
Summary: Lance did something wrong. He wasn't sure what if was, but apparently, it was something that threw off the whole team. Everything seems to be a downward spiral from there. (Posted here from my other accounts.)





	Lance Knows He Matters... Right?

****Apparently, he did something wrong. He wasn't sure what it was this time. Maybe he took a joke on the battlefield too far? No, he was always so sure when he did that, hell he rarely allowed himself to make jokes unless it was a silence, usually after a battle. Maybe he'd been too loud again? He knew the others didn't always appreciate his excitement, but he knew they needed that energy sometimes. Maybe he-

"Lance."

Startled, he looked up, pried from his thoughts on what he possibly could have done wrong this time. He'd been so careful, too. He was met with two equally… terrifying expressions. Furrowed eyebrows, lips pressed thin against each other into a frown, arms crossed.

They wore tight expressions. Such anger. It hurt to see so much frustration… coupled with so much anger. Yet, they looked almost disappointed with Lance.

 _What did he do_ **_wrong_ ** _?_

Hopefully, he hadn't tuned out too much. Maybe he'd hear exactly what he'd done to cause this scolding lecture.

Shiro's expression seemed to relax, as if sensing Lance's internal distress. Although Lance knew that it wasn't the case. "We know that you meant well, but you can't try to rush things like that. You can't keep messing around during training and on the battlefield. I-" His voice held the tightness that his expression didn't, as if he were restraining his emotions, trying to go easy on Lance.

The thought made his heart sink further into his stomach, breathing suddenly becoming a task he had to think about.

Allura's expression had softened, a hand resting on Shiro's shoulder. Lance knew that gesture. Had he really been causing them so much stress? Had he really messed up so bad?

"Lance." Allura's voice was softer, gentler then Shiro's, but it held the same weight, the same level of restraint. They were trying so hard. And then Allura sighed, her hand slipping from Shiro's shoulder. Lance's eyes were cast to the ground. Allura was a silent a moment. "Go on."

He could hear her whispers without looking up. He didn't move a muscle, knowing the words were directed toward Shiro. Slow and heavy footsteps eventually faded from his hearing and Lance could only wait. He swallowed. His muscles tensed. Emotions suddenly radiating from the body in front of him. His heart was suddenly racing as hear breathing grew labored. He could feel her rage.

"Do you know what you put Shiro through?" Her voice was no longer soft and gentle, but restrained and hard. Her words sharpened to knife-like points on spot, digging into his head and heart. "Do you know how hard he works for you? To keep the team together and in high spirits while you goof around, acting as a child?!" Her voice was loud and brash to him, worse than a trombone's blasting.

"This team does not need a child. While your wit and attitude are appreciated here, the battlefield and training deck are no place for your childish play!" Her voice grew louder, and her words came with sharper edges, tone stern. Angry. "Our other Paladins, while they may also play, seem to know the time and place while you always play, rarely opening your eyes to the fact that this. is. war! Your skills with your weapon and the intellect we know you have is what is needed on the battlefield, not your petty jokes and… and… foolishness!" She paused, shaky breaths reaching Lance's ears.

It hurt. It hurt so fucking much to hear those words. Especially from Allura of all people.

To hear that he was childish. That his jokes, meant to lighten the mood and help everyone to relax, were petty and unwanted. He understood that this was war and that war was very real and serious, but he didn't want that to hurt everyone. He was only trying to help and try to make things okay. He was just trying to make use of himself. All he wanted was to help. Yet it seemed like that wasn't wanted of him.

"-ance." She'd said his name. He clenched his fists in response. "I understand that you mean well, but-"

Angry. Angry, angry beeping sounded through the castle, lights flashing red with the sound.

Voltron was needed.

Lance looked to Allura, unsure what to do in response. She merely huffed. "We are not done." was all she said. With that, Lance started on a run toward Red's hangar.

He tried so hard. Were his efforts all in vain? Did his trying to help really mean so little? Was he really that much of a bother? He swallowed he entered Red trying to hide those feelings away inside of himself. Deep, deep inside. He couldn't afford to be emotional, not during battle. It could affect Voltron, it had before.

Lance blinked, slow warm pulses resonated throughout himself, tension releasing from tense muscle. It took a moment to realize that it was Red attempting to soothe him, purring in the back of his mind as a cat would, cool settling deep in his bones. He couldn't really do much other than bask in the attempt at comfort from his lion. He let a shuddering breath out at that.

"I'm fine, Beautiful." He chuckled, the sound hollow and empty. "But thank you." He could feel her purr in the back of his head.

"Lance!" Strength and frustration cut through the warmth, startling Lance back into reality. "Get out here! We're gonna need Voltron!"

Shame made his heart sink into his stomach as he gripped Red's controls. "On my way!" His voice was stronger than the nerves making his body tremble. He pushed Red's prying from the back of his mind, instead working the controls.

He didn't need to disappoint the team any further.

The mission was not going well. They'd had to land on a planet being invaded by the Galra. Having managed to take out the ships, the Paladins of Voltron believed that all they'd have to do was take the Galra down.

Easier said than done.

It was a bloodbath. They couldn't tell whether the blood they wore was their own or someone else's. They couldn't choose which they'd rather believe, instead just trying to keep the locals safe and fight off the Galra.

To say that Lance was struggling was an understatement.

He'd been separated from the others for too long trying to trail a wave of soldiers that grew too near to the peaceful town in harm's way. He'd succeeded in his goal only to be cornered by too many soldiers and sentries. He was so lucky most didn't see him, but he knew they were starting to follow his shots. He swallowed, his stomach curling at the sight of nearing Galra.

He turned on his comms, hands shaking as they pressed the button to link himself. He tried not to be choked at the lump in his throat as he shot the biggest of the troops. "G-Guys! I need reinforcements, I'm cornered in one of the caves near their seas!" His voice was strained as he looked through the caves, trying to think of a place to hide, confuse them, maybe. He was sure that the soldiers realized where he was, seeing as they'd begun toward the mouth of the cave he was in.

Lance's teammates weren't responding to him, shouting over him for each other, instead. Their voices were desperate, but none of them were cornered, and none of them gave any indication of hearing him.

It was dark in the night, Lance's shots were bright, sinking into skin and armor as he only began to aim in the general direction, scrambling to find a boulder to hide behind.

Fear and panic suffocated Lance, him beginning to babble incoherently into his mouthpiece, attempting to call his teammates attention - call for help. His shot were quick, but uncoordinated as he settled in his new hiding place. It was temporary. He only hoped being cornered by the Galra would be, too.

He was finally, finally cutting down the number of soldiers, giving up on calling for help as he shot quickly, still uncoordinated with the adrenaline rushing through his blood. He was feeling the beginning of relief as the last few of the group retreated, only for everything to shatter.

Searing heat erupted across Lance's back, spreading like wildfire over the existing scar as a broken cry ripped itself from his throat. He sank down to his knees, coughing as searing agony pulsed through him. He couldn't see.

Had anyone heard his cries? Had his teammates - his friends - heard his cries? Were they really ignoring him when eyes needed them the most?

He yelped when a hand buried itself in his hair, pulling him up. "Hey!" Anger reached his ears. "Listen to me when I speak!" The masculine voice snarled at him, using Lance's hair as as lead when he threw the Red Paladin down.

There was a smack that Lance couldn't quite identify as stars burst from behind his eyelids in the worst way. Lance must've hit his head, further disoriented as he steadied himself on the ground. He hissed, the throbbing of his head unable to overwhelm the shocks that raced through him, centering in the small of his back. The burning sensation that spread across his back still left him dazed.

He squinted in an attempt to focus on the Galra that stood before him, his mouth moving, but Lance couldn't make out any words. He couldn't hear at all. His hand closed around a familiar shape, and, possible life be damned, there was no one else around and this Galra was the only one keep no him from living.

But… was Lance supposed to live?

He swallowed, taking his bayard in hand. His hearing returning in the form of his heartbeat in his ears. He only grit his teeth together, aiming for the enemy that stood before him and shooting. He was panting when he fell back to the ground, looking at Galra lying before him.

The Galra who stirred not a moment later, still spare for his head. Covered eyes found Lance's panicked ones, bayard at ready. "Taken down by the Blue Paladin." He chuckled, low and rough. He must've been referring to Lance's armor. "'What an honor,' is what anyone else would say." He placed a hand on the ground, but otherwise made no move to rise. "But I know that you're weak."

_No._

"I know that you're useless."

_He wasn't- Lance wasn't useless._

"And I know that Voltron doesn't need someone as meaningless as you as a Paladin."

_That wasn't true, not at all._

_… Right?_

A silence stood between them as Lance bought himself to stand, his hand tight on his bayard. He forced the insecurity that rose inside of him as he aimed his bayard to the fallen soldier.

"Have nothing to say, huh?"

More silence.

"Guess I was right."

"No." Lance's voice still wavered as he spoke.

"Pathetic little boy." The Galra stood, rushing toward Lance.

And then he was still.

"I'm not weak." He was. He didn't need the Galra to tell him what already knew. He pulled the trigger. "I'm not pathetic. And I'm not useless." He wasn't sure. He thought he was, but the others always told him that he mattered.

He wasn't so sure he believed them. Not anymore, if he had before.

"Most importantly, I am not a little boy." He fired his last shot, watching as the man fell.

Lance wasn't a little boy. Although he was just the boy from Cuba.

Lance waited. He waited and waited and waited. He didn't even know what he was waiting for, he was just waiting. Just standing in the cave.

And then he turned away from the man, from the countless bodies in the cave, machinery and all. He felt around, having to close one of his eyes. Something warm streaming from the throbbing in his head.

_Probably blood._

He eventually found his helmet. The comms were silent, and he hadn't them. He headed toward the mouth of the cave, looking around for Red, the lion he knew had to be near.

 _"All Paladins return to the Castle."_  That was… was it Allura's voice? Lance wasn't sure, he just heard the words.  _"We've won."_

Lance knew that other things were said, but that was all he could hear. He looked up to see the lions. Four of them. They were leaving him.

And then he heard a low rumble in the back of his mind.

Turning, he found Red, lying on the ground for him. Her mechanical mouth was open, awaiting his entry. He entered her silently.

Lance was beyond exhausted.

His mind and body ached, his head throbbed, and his back was numb. His eye was still closed, glued shut with dried blood, but he knew that if he touched, his hand would be red. Maybe the dark color would flake off with how it was clinging to his skin.

It was somewhere between the planet and the castle when Lance muted the comms and whimpered. With coaxing from Red, it wasn't long before he was sobbing. She took the reins in steering herself toward the castle as Lance trembled in her seat, sorrowful, guilty, fearful sobs wracking through him.

His body shook as violent sobs left his already exhausted mind and body in tatters. He still hiccuped up tears as they arrived in the castle, in Red's hangar. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to face the people that had ignored him. He didn't want to go out to be yelled at anymore. He couldn't stand to be ignored, again.

When Red opened up, Lance was pulling himself up from his seat, taking slow steps so he wouldn't fall. On the way out, the cry of his name left him confused, reeling as he looked up. He stumbled forward over his own feet, his legs giving out just as arms wrapped around him.

He cried out when a hand slapped his back, trembling once gain, too weak to hold himself up.

He opened an eyes, finding the faces of all the others, even Coran, standing around and before him. Their mouths move faster than he could process, expressions twisted. There were scrunched up eyebrows, glassy eyes, and hands reaching out. They fussed over him, at least that's what he thought they were doing. He couldn't hear them right, their voices muffled in his ears, distant.

He choked on the pain, on the sorrow that welled within himself, his vision fading as his body finally caved into his exhaustion. He barely registered that they'd grown silent when he'd first cried out. He just couldn't handle it anymore. His own voice was broken, weak, barely a whisper once he finally found it to ask-

"So now I matter?"


End file.
